A Rookie's Dream Patrol
by Bler
Summary: One 'Hog- check. Some Marines- check. Expectations- nil. Situation- FUBAR.
1. Chapter 1

New Harmony, Base Camp Bravo

February 28, 2554

Alone. Walking the lonely road. Nothing to accompany him on the road back to base camp except his MA5C, his M6D, and his armor. His platoon of Marines had been deployed on New Harmony to protect the already dwindling population of civilians from a pack of Brutes.

"Hey man, listen up! You better watch out for your fellow greenies on this patrol 'cause I won't be there to rescue you newbies like last time," an old friend of the Private First Class had told him. "Now I ain't worried about you, 'cause I know you can hold your own, but you'll need to look after the other Privates. Brutes just love the taste of newbies."

It had been every rookie's dream patrol: a vehicle tour far beyond any reported area of Brute activity. The PFC never even bothered to learn the names of the other two Marines in the Warthog. He climbed on the turret while they took the driver and passenger positions and away they went.

The Warthog reached the farthest point in the patrol at about midnight (local time). The PFC had been falling asleep on the turret while the passenger was using his radio to listen to somebody at base camp explain the reasons why they shouldn't shoot any Sangheili they met on patrol. Even with the war over, tensions were still running high.

Just as the passenger was telling the man at base camp exactly where he can shove his reasons, a high-pitched click and beep was heard. A glowing, yellow, cog-looking object fell out of a tree in front of the Warthog. The Brute mine landed directly on the windshield. The driver managed to let out a "SHI-" before he and the passenger died instantly.

The resulting explosion caused the PFC to become temporarily deaf and threw the soldier off the wrecked turret. He hit the rocky dirt road on his back with enough force to drive the breath out of him.

As he lay there, gasping for air, he glanced up at the full moon. It looked so peaceful, so serene, as if it couldn't believe what had just happened. A silhouette appeared. The Marine blinked twice in the silence before the turret crashed down, rendering him unconscious.

Unbeknownst to him, that turret saved his life, for the Brutes that sprung the trap saw the unmoving bodies and left, assuming that all in the Warthog had died.

The Marine woke up soon after the Brutes left. Still laying on the ground, he observed his surroundings. New Harmony's sun had not risen yet, but he could still see the thick woods on both sides of the dirt road.

He did not expect to wake up. He pieced together what had happened while he was laying on his back. He thought about the family he no longer had, thanks to the war, and of the few friends he had at base camp that would be expecting his patrol to return rather soon. They would just have to settle for lateness.

The soldier carefully picked himself up and checked for injuries. Feeling none, he walked to the no-longer flaming wreckage of the Warthog. His knife was nowhere to be found, his pistol was still on his thigh, and he found his assault rifle under a wheel. Unfortunately, he did not have any extra clips for either weapons. Trying not to look at the charred remains, he retrieved the dog-tags of the driver and the passenger. Once the deed was done, the soldier turned around and started the long walk back to base.

Alone. Walking the lonely road. Nothing to accompany him on the road back to base camp except his MA5C, his M6D, and his armor.

**Thank you for reading! There are more chapters to come, and soon! Please let me know what you think of my first attempt at an actual story. I would really like to hear some feedback.**

**Bler**


	2. Chapter 2

His armor and weapons felt a lot heavier than he remembered. The sky was getting lighter, but the sun had not quite risen yet. The Marine was only halfway back to base camp. He still had a long way to walk.

Just when he was starting to feel hopeless, the first rays of the sun were cast over the hill behind him. Right as his despair was starting to wane, a large, ape-shaped shadow appeared. The trooper tensed and dove forward as he heard the...

CHOOF! CHOOF! CHOOF!

...of a Brute Shot. The explosions of the grenades launched the Marine farther than he expected. As his rolling came to a stop, multiple thuds were heard as two Brute Minors wielding Spike Rifles jumped from the trees to join the Brute Captain holding the Brute Shot.

The soldier knew there was no chance in hell he could take on three Brutes, so he turned around and ran towards the woods, hoping beyond hope that he could at least outrun the beasts. He heard the Brute Minors open fire with their Spikers, and he saw the foot-long spikes whiz past him. He almost made it to the trees when a spike impaled his left knee.

The Marine collapsed immediately onto his face on the edge of the dirt road, almost blacking out from the intense pain. He knew that the spike had just signed his death warrant, but he decided to kill as many of the bastards as possible. The soldier pulled the assault rifle off his back and crawled to the nearest tree, bracing his back against it. He singled out a Brute Minor, aimed, pulled the trigger, and watched the numbers on the ammo counter dwindle. The Brute slumped over, dead, as the counter read zero.

The other Minor ran towards the soldier while the Captain calmly approached at a leisurely pace, not caring that his subordinate was just killed. The Marine reached for another clip before remembering he had none. Before he could draw his pistol, the Minor was upon him. The PFC swung the butt of the rifle at the Minor, who simply caught the rifle in one hand and tossed it over a shoulder.

The Brute punched him in the stomach before not-so-gently grabbing a leg (his uninjured one, luckily) and lifting him upside down until they were face to face. The Marine groaned in pain. The Minor howled in his face, and in response, the PFC used all of his strength to yank the spike from his knee and drive it through the Brute's neck.

As he was dropped, he pulled the spike from the Minor's spurting throat and tucked his head so he landed on his shoulders, then flopped onto his front. The Minor gave one last gurgle before toppling backwards.

With his left knee heavily bleeding, the PFC shakily got onto his hands and knee to look at the Brute Captain. He switched the bloody spike from his right hand to his left so he would be able to draw his pistol. Before he was able to, a thud and a shimmer appeared in front of him. Said shimmer uncloaked to reveal a Brute Stalker wielding a Mauler. The Marine's hope for survival plummeted.

The Brute reached for the PFC, who immediately tried to stab him. The Stalker grabbed his left hand and elbow and promptly broke the arm, causing the spike to be dropped. The Marine could do nothing but scream in pain as the meaty hand of the Brute wrapped around his neck and lifted him off the ground.

The Stalker turned him around to face the Captain, who turned the Brute Shot around so the blade was pointing towards the doomed Marine. The Captain thrusted the blade out and braced his legs as the Stalker pulled the Marine backwards. With hearty laughter and one mighty heave, the Brute threw the PFC through the air, towards the awaiting blade.

**Chapter 2 here. Please leave a review on the way out, I would greatly appreciate it. Next chapter will be posted probably within a week. Thanks for reading!**

**Bler**


	3. Chapter 3

The Private First Class thought his life would flash before his eyes. He was wrong. There was nothing but terror for him as he fell towards his death. As the blade was poised to pierce his chest, the Marine felt some kind of invisible force latch onto the front of his armor and violently yank him to the side.

When his head cleared, he and the Brutes noticed with confusion that he was floating above the ground. The question of "how" was answered when a white-armored Elite appeared in front of him, a four-taloned hand grasping his armor.

The Brutes were nothing if not pissed that their meal was stolen from them. The Captain dropped into his berserking stance as the Stalker engaged his active camo. The Elite Ultra none-too-gently dropped the PFC as he activated his energy sword. As the Marine tried to crawl back to the woods, he watched the Captain dodge every slash the Elite made. It was only when the Captain leapt at the Elite did the energy sword make its way into the Brute. The ape used the rest of his strength to grab the hand holding the sword in a death grip.

The PFC noticed a shimmer approaching the Elite. The Ultra was busy prying the Brutes' hands off his wrist and failed to notice the Stalker. The Marine pulled out his M6D and used his entire clip shooting at the ape-like alien. As the last shell hit the dirt, the Stalker's active camo disengaged, and the body slumped onto the road.

The Elite noticed during the shooting that the Stalker's Mauler had been aimed at his head at point-blank range. This caused the Ultra to realize that he had been saved by the Marine. The Elite snarled at the revelation.

Once the Elite Ultra retrieved his sword from the Captain, he walked into the woods, leaving behind the crippled Marine.

**I know, I know. Short chapter. It is a necessary evil for the pacing of the story, which is nearing its end. A big thank you to all those who have reviewed, and thanks in advance who are going to. Expect the next chapter soon.**

**~Bler**


	4. Finishing the Fight

The Private First Class was completely helpless. Both his left leg and his left arm were crippled. He couldn't make it back to base camp. He was a dead man and he knew it. The soldier fell onto his face, not caring about damaging it. The pain in his arm and leg was terrific, with only his eventual sleep making the pain bearable.

The Marine awoke to the sound of a distant humming, which soon grew to a loud droning. The position of New Harmony's sun indicated that he had not been asleep for very long. The sound was familiar: he had heard it sometime during training. It was the sound of...

...a Prowler.

The PFC tried to stand up, but failed miserably, falling on his face. At that point, he decided that the best course of action was to play dead. The Prowler came to a stop, sounding like it was almost right on top of him. After the engines stopped, he heard someone, or something, exit the vehicle.

The Marine could do nothing except wait for his death as the footsteps came closer. The footsteps halted right beside his head, and he felt a boot nudge his arm. His left arm. He couldn't help but cry out in pain. A surprised sounding grunt was heard above him.

The PFC felt a familiar two-fingered, two-thumbed, taloned hand grasp his right shoulder. He was pulled through the air until he came face to face with his previous savior, the Elite Ultra wearing white armor. His eyes widened when he saw the condition the PFC was in, and his upper two mandibles moved in a gesture the Marine could not understand.

The Elite carried him back to the Prowler, trying not to drag his legs through the dirt after he shouted the first time. The PFC noticed a blue armored Elite in the driver seat, looking very unhappy with his mandibles constantly shifting. Whether it was because he was forced to drive the Brute's Prowler, or because he had to go out of his way to help rescue a Human, the Marine will never know.

The Ultra lifted him up and placed him in the turret cavity of the Prowler. Being a normal Human, the PFC was too small to see out of the turret area. Not even bothering to try to pull himself out of the hole, he simply made himself as comfortable as possible and fell asleep.

The Ultra sat down on the right passenger area of the Prowler and barked an order to the Elite Minor. The twin engines started up, and the two different species traveled down the road back to base camp.

_End_

**And that's the end of that. Now let me tell ya, writing that wasn't easy, especially because I used no names, and just one line of dialogue. That's why the characters in my next story will have names. That's right, a sequel is in the works. It's already much longer than this story. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! A very special thanks to La Aardvark, elfpricess, and CrazyChibiSama for proofreading and being very supportive. Now that you're done here, go check out their works of art.**

**~Bler**


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